When Diwa returned, Rokirith's head jolted up as he instantly felt her mood was amiss. What's wrong? he asked over their telepathic link.
I'll heal your tail now, she intoned. Diwa hid the source of her ire—the dragonets—as she did not want to worry him with anything other than his present condition.
Rokirith sighed. Fia and Viliant had probably given her a hard time, especially that latter wyrm. Though this did not come as a surprise, anger still flitted through him that they had made Diwa so disheartened. His pain flared up, quickly making him acknowledge Diwa's good judgment.
"You were so brave," she whispered as she nuzzled his other cheek, the one across from where he held the egg.
"No. Do not falsely attribute such a quality to a dragon as lowly as me. One moment of bravery does not atone for an entire life led in cowardice." Sage Rokirith stared at the dull, brown shell reflected in the distant gaze of his eyes. Its latent streaks of black magic constricted its future like his past did to him.
"One regret does not need to define your whole life either," Diwa countered. As badly as she wanted to lie beside him, she turned to the curled stub of his tail.
The burnt smell of his cauterized flesh caught in her nostrils, reminding her of Fia's wound when Rokirith had first dropped the dragonette off. Her shoulder had already pushed Diwa's magic to its limits. On top of working to untangle the black dragonet's ley lines, mana exhaustion had accumulated in her own magical veins. Diwa's meager talents as a healer would not enable her to undo the damage done to Rokirith, but that did not make her crisp voice falter. "I will do everything I can to save your tail."
"I don't care about my tail," Rokirith muttered, but the gratitude in his mind resounded, Thank you. Large tears gathered in Sage Rokirith's eyes, wavering at his lower lids till he squeezed his eyes shut. "It was hardly a sacrifice to save this egg—" his steady voice broke off. "I only wish it were mine!"
A chill ran down to the core of Diwa's bones. She patted a sympathetic paw against his haunch as her bleary eyes focused on his tail.
Quieter, Sage Rokirith whispered, "Why did I not save my son?"
"You tried your best. You did everything you could at the time." Diwa offered the sage this reassurance for the hundredth time. Her patience had begun to fray from his perpetual mourning over the past decade, but now Diwa understood. The egg laid by his late mate had not merely been broken or eaten by the barbaric humans. Sage Rokirith's unhatched son had been splintered into a thousand pieces, corrupted into an instrument of war.
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A guilt started to broil within Diwa, worse than their initial failure to recover Sage Rokirith's egg. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to help more," she whispered in a haunting, empty voice.
Diwa could hardly see past the tears in her own eyes as she cast spell after spell on Sage Rokirith's tail. Her magic kept fading away. Dwelling on the past would do nothing to avert the pain of the present, so she focused her power to do all that she could to regrow his tail. Even if it costs me my magic, Diwa thought gravely to herself, willing to damage her own ley lines for his sake, she told Rokirith aloud, "I will restore your tail."
The sage sobbed quietly as he clung onto the egg. A choke caught in his throat, and rampant emotions possessed his mind. Abruptly, he said, "You've done enough."
By now, she had managed to grow a few inches onto the end of his tail. Its tip had smoothed out, no longer a jagged cut. I've done so much, she marveled to herself. I can do more! Diwa pretended not to hear the weak concession of Rokirith. A wheeze slipped past her clenched jaw, determined to keep going.
"I said you've done enough!" Rokirith gave a muted growl and flung himself to his feet. Though she could have easily dodged his lethargic tackle, Diwa was too preoccupied to do so. "Stop," he intoned in a low voice as he kept her pinned. "Please." Rokirith fiercely nestled his cheek to hers, as if the proximity would help her better understand with his transmitter pressed to her receptor. I don't want us both broken beyond repair.
Shocked by his intense, emotive display, Diwa fell silent for a few seconds before she finally relented. Very well. The dragoness collapsed under the dragon's greater weight. As soon as she ceased resistance, the sage fell on top of her. The egg still lay within his grasp, a breadth away from their flaring nostrils. The dragons' pupils flitted to look at one another, tears glistening in each of their green and crimson eyes.
Apologies, Rokirith said as he gathered the strength to push himself back up.
No, don't be sorry, Diwa said with her eyes rolling to watch him retreat. I know you're exhausted.
The sage turned back to look at her, the short remainder of his tail curled in offense. That is an understatement. When he lay down, Diwa got up to follow him.
How are you feeling, Roki?
Sage Rokirith sniffed and composed himself so that he could evenly express, My tail feels numb. Hastily, he added, In a good way.
Please rest, Diwa said with a wing flap draped over his spiny back. You did good, Sage Rokirith.
Don't call me that anymore, Rokirith said. I'm sage of nothing. Those are the wisest words that I will ever say. The great, gray dragon closed his eyes with his scaly cheek affixed to the dragon egg. Both his claws encircled its shell, never intending to let go of the baby dragonette inside.
Diwa sighed and patted a claw over top of Rokirith's forehead. When he next opened his eyes, she prayed that he would feel ready to turn over a new leaf in his life.